Send in the Clowns, a Detective Mike Bridger novel (7 page)

Detective Becky Wright
entered the room carrying a tray of coffee; the aroma of cheap
instant granules filled the small room. She had completed what she
could with her dead body at the mortuary and would not need to be
present again until the autopsy. She had volunteered to help with
the interview to take her mind off it in the mean time.

“
Two with and
one without…” Becky held the black coffee out too Reece who took it
and placed it on the desk in front of him, before leaning back and
putting his hands behind his head.

Bridger read the preamble
off the printed card sitting in front of him outlining their
seemingly relaxed guest’s rights while being spoken too by police.
Although he was not under arrest, they wanted him to stay and
provide a statement in order to determine his involvement, if any,
in the attack on Michael Wilson or the subsequent releasing of the
animals from his Circus. Reece just nodded along as he spoke, and
grunted when asked if he understood. The arrogance of this young
man got right up Bridger’s nose but he tried not to let
on.

“
Mr Coster…
Let us start with what happened this morning at the Circus. Did you
or your colleagues have anything to do with the release of those
animals?”

Reece snorted through his
nose “No…, our mission is to protect those animals, releasing them
would put them in all kinds of danger. The biggest threat too them
would be you lot and your guns.”

“
What does
P.A.A.I.N stand for?”

“
People
against animals in captivity network… we have been around for over
sixty years.”

“
Is this not
the same group that claim to be behind releasing those Lions from
the Circus in Lawrence back in nineteen seventy eight?” Becky
asked.

“
And look
what happened, the local Policeman shot them both. Sultan was
trying to return to his cage, but could not get in, and Sonia was
just cornered. If they had given her space, she would have returned
to her captivity. Those Lions did not know anything but the two by
four cages they spent their short lives in, performing for the
enjoyment of the ignorant, day in and day out. So no, releasing
animals is not something we like to do these days… for obvious
reasons. Maybe you should look a bit closer to home… open your eyes
and see.” A knowing smile spread across his face and then he
stretched his arms revealing a scripted tattoo of the word PAAIN on
the inside of his forearm, before yawning and looking at his
watch.

Bridger was not sure he
believed what he was saying, it sounded too scripted too be
something he actually believed in. He had also seen many guilty
people display the same indifferent actions when they were hiding
something. “So what do you do when you are not saving animals Mr
Coster?”

“
I’m at the
university…”

“
You said you
have been a member of P.A.A.I.N for how long?”

“
I didn’t…
but six years in total…, if you have to know.” There was a slight
pride in Reece’s voice.

“
P.A.A.I.N
recruits first year students don’t they? So you must be doing a
Masters degree by now, or even a Doctorate?” Becky had a slightly
puzzled tone.

Bridger caught the
reaction on Reece’s face as it went from pride too something else.
Darkness descended in his features, as if he was ashamed of the
answer. The question had obviously struck a nerve. He wondered why
Becky had asked it.

“
I never
completed my first degree…, I am attending different lectures at
the moment, trying to find something that interests me, but with my
commitments to P.A.A.I.N it gets a bit difficult…”

“
Ok, so you
are unemployed, you’re not enrolled in a degree course and spend
your time saving animals… Where were you last night, Mr Coster?”
Becky had jumped straight in and asked the only question left to
clarify.

Reece took a deep breath
and looked at each one of them in the eye, as if contemplating how
to phrase his answer. “I was at the pub; the Robbie Burns, plenty
of people saw me… I even pulled.” He directed a sleazy look towards
Becky “And before you ask, gentlemen do not kiss and tell, but if
you want to know more, take a look at the P.A.A.I.N website this
evening.” He folded his arms and leaned back against the chair with
a satisfied smile. They were not going to get anything else from
him today.

Bridger and Becky were
walking back up to the office after they had released Reece Coster
and told him they would be checking his alibi. They had what they
needed from him for now, even if Bridger found it hard to believe
he was not holding anything back. “Thanks for agreeing to look
after Mr Wilson this morning Becky, it’s never a pleasant
task.”

“
As long as
you note it down for my next appraisal, Mike.” Becky actually
smiled as she spoke, the morning’s gruesome detail obviously not
affecting her too much.

“
You will get
a glowing report Becky… Hey, what were all the questions about
Reece’s degree courses?”

“
I’ve met his
type before; they pretend to be something they are not. Failed
students who cannot quite let the life go, hanging around for one
cause or another. His just happens to be animals; I bet he does not
even believe in what he stands for. He is just there for a bit of
action. He will be behind releasing those animals. All his spouting
on about putting them in danger… he does not believe that, but he
has to keep up the pretence or his fellow activists might oust
him.”

“
I would say
he is good for releasing the animals…, but murder? Do you see a
connection with what he says he believes in, and that?”

“
I’m not sure
Mike, but he needs to be added to our list of suspects.”

Bridger nodded his reply
as his phone beeped in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw the name
‘Laura Bridger’ displayed prominently on the message icon. He
stopped walking.

‘
Mike, can we
meet this afternoon. Need to talk about last night. I do not want
to compete with your work again. L’

Shit… He was afraid this
would happen. It had taken him weeks to convince Laura to come out
for a meal, it had taken longer to reach the point they had last
night. Things had been looking up for their marriage for the first
time in at least a few years. They were still living apart, but he
had seen some hope in her shy willingness. Now the same old rot had
set in, but this time she was still gun-shy and looked like she
wanted to pull back before his work got in the way again. He loved
his wife, but needed his work. When it all came down to it, he knew
he would not be able to choose easily.

“
Mike, are
you okay?” Becky’s voice broke into his thoughts.

“
Sorry Becky,
what were you saying?” Bridger put the phone back in his pocket,
and tried to suppress the feeling that had started to make itself
at home inside his head. He knew that the current murder enquiry
would take up a lot of his time, he could not predict for how long
either. Becky just shrugged and walked into the office with her
back to him.

Walking into the office
behind her, he saw Jo Williamson sitting behind her desk; she
looked to be at a loose end for once and was gazing out of the
window. He clicked back into work mode. “Jo can you make an enquiry
at the hospital, see if you can dig up any CCTV footage of the
entrance to the accident and emergency ward. We need to nail down
the period of when Wilson came and went from the hospital. It makes
sense that he may have entered the alleyway shortly after leaving
the hospital.”

Jo looked back from the
window and just nodded her reply, a slightly vacant look on her
face. He had seen this look before on his own face, a look he had
caught in the reflection of a window when he was not expecting it.
Maybe it was not such a good idea for her to be back so soon, but
then he had needed work as a way to escape in the past, so maybe
she was in the right place. He spoke a little softer.

“
Can you also
dig up as much as you can on Reece Coster; there is more too him
than meets the eye. Check with staff at the Robbie Burns Hotel; see
if they can recall him being there. The rest of us have another
trip to the Circus.”

The scene could not have
been more different from what he had seen earlier in the morning.
The interior of the Circus encampment almost seemed like another
world now. They had circled the wagons against the outside world,
the occupants hidden from view by the thin metal walls of their
mobile homes and caravans. Temporary gates, shut tight against
excited children and overzealous silent protestors, had a makeshift
sign on them that read ‘Circus Closed’. No other explanation was
given. The battlements drawn, the Oval was now a medieval wall of
caravans’ and cages, and right in the centre of it all was the
yellow ‘Big Top’ standing as proud as a castles keep.

Bridger stood with Brian,
Becky and Grant in a small huddle and felt like he led a hopelessly
outnumbered invading force that had no idea of the world they had
entered. The smells and noises coming from behind canvas shrouds
were a stark reminder of the animals they hid, animals he had seen
at close range earlier in the day. Groups of strangely dressed
people milled about in an ordered society known only to them.
Bridger looked around at the strange breed of people. There was a
subtle hierarchy at play, which seemed outdated, but obviously
worked well for the inhabitants of this Circus.

The Clowns he recognised
from earlier were jostling each other and laughing beside a large
motor home on the far side, happy in each other’s company. A group
of woman, dressed similar to the peasants of old, were gathered
around a steaming pot under a canvas awning, toiling away their
time. A couple of young men without shirts were leading various
animals in and out of the big tents canvas doors, sweat glistening
off the backs of human and animals alike.

A very small man had
intercepted them at the front gate and had told them he would
advise Mr Gonzales of their presence, before scurrying away in a
strange shuffling motion. Bridger had no idea whether it was still
appropriate to use the word ‘Midget’, but could not think of any
other way to describe the little man. There was no sign of the rest
of the performers. It looked as if everyone had his or her jobs to
do in this travelling show and did them without complaint, a
society at its most base level.

“
Do you think
that those women have a big pot of steaming cabbage cooking over
there?” Grant was indicating the group of cooks as he spoke, and
was smiling too himself. “Or maybe it’s an ancient
spell...”

“
Grant,
that’s not very appropriate, is it.” Becky’s tone was sharp. “I
didn’t think you stooped to using baseless stereotypes.”

Bridger decided the word
Midget was probably not appropriate either “Alright you two, no
arguments please, we are here to do a job.” Looking at Brian for
backup, he saw he was looking slightly puzzled. “What’s on your
mind, Brian?”

“
I’m not sure
Mike…, it’s just this place is strange. When the animals were out
this morning, the Clowns took care of it. They knew what they were
doing and just got on with it. Anthony Gonzales looked like he was
out of his depth, yet he is now the only boss. He did not interact
with anyone within the Circus that I saw during that whole episode,
but the Circus Midget ran off too get him as if he was a King.
Michael Wilson has only been dead for less than twenty-four hours.
I don’t know, it is just a feeling I get, but something’s not
right.” Brian shrugged his shoulders and indicated over Bridger’s
shoulder. “Here he comes now…”

Bridger looked behind him
and saw Anthony Gonzales approaching with the Midget trailing
behind him. He was dressed in a velvet waistcoat and trousers and
carried a walking stick, which he clearly did not need. Anthony was
oblivious to the looks he was getting from his subjects but it did
not escape Bridger’s attention. The Clowns were the worst of all,
not bothering to hide the contempt in their eyes.

“
Sergeant,
it’s good to see you again.” He held out his hand, limply, like an
old friend. “I would like to thank you again for your help this
morning; none of the animals seem too have suffered in their
ordeal.” He looked Bridger in the eye as if seeking conformation
that he was saying the right thing. Bridger noticed a slight bruise
around his eye, something he had not seen earlier.

“
It’s just a
shame that it happened this morning Mr Gonzales, we do have more
important things too deal with at the moment. This brings us to
what we need to do now. It is just a formality, but we need to
speak too everyone here. Depending on what they have to tell us,
will determine whether we need a formal statement or not.” There
was no point in dressing it up as sympathy over the death of
Anthony’s friend, they had a job to do and it was easier for
everyone if they just got on with it.

Anthony looked over his
shoulders at the groups surrounding them; they were all watching
their discussion intently “Okay Sergeant, where would you like to
start.” There was a slightly nervous look on Anthony’s
face.

“
Let’s start
with you, Mr Gonzales. I understand that you were with him last
night, here at the Circus… Some sort of argument?” Bridger saw the
flash of anger behind Anthony’s eyes, quickly replaced by another
look he recognised all too well… fear.